Arises in the classic age, the Beethoven;
So, poked are the nerves now and then.
Watching which with vigor
The blood boils unconditionally,
While wears out the weakened mask
Of the coiled soul – and it,
The soul, stretches towards infinity!
The disturbed mind is now stirred,
Knows not any conventions,
For it has sunk in art;
The mystic ocean; the evolved eternity!
Relieves itself, the self, towards a world
That has lost all the gathering people,
While stamping out tainted beleifs
Attaining, with innocence, sanity!
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